


My Lovely Ghost

by Schattenmalerin



Category: Vampire: The Masquerade – Bloodlines (Video Game)
Genre: First Meeting, M/M, Shenanigans, and Gary his newest victim, my Toreador is a flirty little shit sometimes, spoiler of course, use of Disciplines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 18:23:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19874047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schattenmalerin/pseuds/Schattenmalerin
Summary: Of course LaCroix had to sent one of his lackeys down here to ask about this goddamn sarcophagus. Gary just wished it wouldn't be that Toreador fledgling with the striking red hair and a mouth bigger than whole Hollywood's residence together.Or: How the first meeting between the Nosferatu Primogen and my male Toreador could have gone, if the game actually gave me a chance to answer with more than just "Show yourself", "Who are you?" and "I want the sarcophagus, NOW!"





	My Lovely Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> Let's be honest: If you're playing Toreador and are about to make your terrible way down to the Nosferatu haven, you're in for a quite ... unique conversation with dear old Gary. And because despite how insulting he was behaving toward my "poor Toreador", he's one of my favorite characters in the whole game, so I just needed to write something about Gary and my male Toreador.  
> Hope you like it ;)

One reason Gary felt so at home in this stinking shithole of a rats nest was the absence of unwanted guests and thus the presence of peace.

No snotty-nosed brat acting like some Camarilla Highness, no hot- _and_ blockheaded Mr. All-for-the-Anarchy-Rodriguez and not that self-proclaimed, arrogant Baron of Hollywood. He was sure that slimy Toreador asshole knew exactly which sort of "sewer rats" dwell below his domain, still he hadn't taken any measures in the last years to eradicate them. Gary and his children kept their noses out of the politics in Hollywood and in reverse the oh-so-noble Baron spared their lives by merely recognizing them as an ugly inconvenience he can overlook if trying hard enough.

Pah, as if the Baron or any of his lackeys would even have the slightest chance to find their way through the dangerous and misleading sewers and warrens or even make their pretty Toreador hands dirty down here! They would be arriving here half-dead, ready to be finished off with a snap of his finger — or so Gary had thought before he laid eyes on the unwelcome guest a few weeks ago.

***

Striking red hair, pretty face, bright, glowing eyes, a subliminally seductive aura around him — a damned Toreador, no doubt.  
Invaded his domain and demanded — Ha, _demanded_! In _his_ territory! The nerves of that fledgling! — to know the whereabouts of the much sought-after Ankaran sarcophagus, even threatened him with Little Lord FlauntLaCroix's wrath, if he wouldn't get an answer.

Gary took his sweet time with this one, toying with him, aiming provocative insults at him and his appearance, all while constantly using Obfuscate to stay invisible for the Toreador's eyes. He circled him, like a hunter his prey; although this particular prey appeared way too proud and snappy for his liking. The dust covered trousers and tatty dark blue jacket — which had definitely looked impeccable _before_ his trip through the warrens, Gary was sure of that — made up for his irritating attitude though. Moreover did the large cut going straight over his left cheek to his lips and ending on his chin, ruining that pretty, oh-so perfectly defined face; and if even just for a few minutes till the regeneration would set in, it made Gary grin sharply in a pang of satisfaction. As did the continuously more irritated and worn down reactions of the young fledgling toward his use of Obfuscate.

"I'm surprised, _pretty boy_ , about your attire. Looks…hm…quite out of place for an oh-so-elegant Toreador," Gary provoked further, taking a pleasure in seeing the Toreador getting more uncomfortable in his skin. "Your pretty words didn't help you down here, boss?"

"Not my fault the Nosferatu Primogen dwells in some rats nest, because he wants to be by his relatives. You started transforming to a rat, evolution reversed? Maybe that's the reason I can't see you."

Daring, that one.

Tempting, the thought of stretching out his hand, pushing one of his claw-shaped fingers into that delicate neck, reaching around and simply slitting his throat open, letting him bleed out on this very ground for making such a scathing remark, creating a goddamn bloody mess.

No one would know. No one would care; LaCroix would simply put another lackey to the task and Gary doubted the fledgling was involved enough with the Anarchs to be missed by them. And even if someone would care — maybe Isaac had taken a liking to this one, after all, he was of his kin — he could always claim _pretty boy here_ didn't survive the warrens, got slaughtered on the way by trying to use his pretty face instead of his brain to fulfill his duty to LaCroix. He doubted the fledgling was of so great importance to anyone _up there_ that someone would really make a trip _down here_ to interfere with his business.

The thought was tempting, oh so tempting, but then again: Gary held high respect for daredevilry and a soft spot for sarcasm, even if it came with an disgustingly slick face and a propensity for stupidity.

And as he said it himself: There was a method to his madness and he wasn't about to kill off that fledgling for an uncalled-for remark… _Yet_.

The Toreador regretted his words as soon as they left his insolent mouth. Gary noticed it in the way he started turning around cautiously, now staring at — _through_ — Gary, eyes warily wandering to every dark corner in this shithole. His lips twisted in a contrite way.

"I didn't, uh…" A sigh, nothing more and Gary felt delighted about the speechlessness of the otherwise so eloquent Toreador.

_Maybe a little lesson in humility isn't completely lost on him yet._

"Lost for words? That's a first for your clan. The high and mighty baron won't be too proud at that, boss."

The Toreador gritted his teeth for a second, then decided against his inner impulse to take the bait and sighed instead.

"Can we just skip to the point where you'll tell me about the Ankaran sarcophagus?" His voice sounded tired. "I wouldn't want to linger here any longer than I have to."

"Of course you wouldn't," Gary hissed back, not even trying to hide the loathing undertone in his otherwise so composed voice. "That _rats nest_ too shabby and dirty for your pretty face? Beneath your lofty and luxurious tastes? Not good for your skin complexion? Well, I'll let you in on a secret, boss: You won't get any more tanned than this."

Maybe sighing was a new discipline of the Toreador clan, because he did it for the third time in a row. Then, after a short, pondering glance around the room, he pulled one of the free chairs away from the table and let himself fall ungracefully down on it.

"Hey!" Gary exclaimed almost indignant. "Did I invite you to sit?"

The Toreador ignored his words, instead fishing a blood packet from his satchel and greedily drinking the red liquor.

Gary observed the slightly slumped body of the other vampire, the cuts and bloodstains all over his clothes.  
Apparently the warrens had taken a toll on him after all. Well, served him right.

The fledgling had enough courtesy not to throw the empty plastic bag on the ground, but put it back inside his satchel after he was finished with his _snack_ — strange behavior, entering his domain, insulting him, though being aware enough no to throw his trash around his haven.

"Believe me, I'd rather get comfortable down here and listen to your _angelic_ voice all night long, but," the fledgling made a dismissive hand movement, as if to get rid of a fly, "I got places to be, things to do, people to betray — or _disappoint_ , that is."

Gary kept quiet, observed how the Toreador continued to throw glances around the room. The blood pack must have done a good job for him, if the recurring urge to talk counted as an indication for his reappearing strength.

"For example decide if I fill the Baron of Hollywood in on the fact the Gargoyle sitting across from him in the Asian Theater — oh yes, the one _I_ have the great _honor_ to deal with, _thanks again_ , Adams — is actually Regent Strauss' creation," the Toreador continued, voice sounding both bored to death and over-dramatically at the same time. "I know there's a great political advantage in for Isaac if I give Strauss' secret away. Then again, it's not like _I_ get to place my lazy ass in a comfortable chair in some fancy office and determine the faith of all the people working _their_ asses off for me, so…I couldn't care less about any political advantage for anyone." By now the Toreador raised from his chair, slowly striding along the room, here and there touching some of the old and dusty furniture in passing.

If this behavior wouldn't be so strikingly odd, Gary would've stopped this charade long time ago. Instead he kept on playing ghost and listened to the other rambling on.

"You acquainted with Romero? The ridiculously good-looking graveyard guard?", he added casually, throwing the question into the room as if he didn't even care anymore where his conversation partner was standing. "He wanted me to fight off a whole zombie horde just so he could go have his one-minute-fun with some prostitute. VV sent me to kill that vampire huntress, a real nasty blond one, in the sin bin, while seconds later I got to fight off even more of them to save that self-pitying ex-actor from certain death. By Caine, I got a way too soft spot for beautiful beings in despair." Another deep sigh left his lips, as if he really felt tormented by his self-declared _good nature_.

Gary couldn't deny that he felt a tiny bit intrigued by the so out-of-character-act. Weren't Toreadors supposed to smooth-talk their conversation partners to get what they want? Instead this one here went on a verbal rampage about everyone up there.

" _Meanwhile_ ," the fledgling turned around to him now, even if he couldn't possibly know Gary was standing there, and let his eyes wander around, "the Anarchs screaming all in my ear 'cause of that damned blood hunt on their leaders' head. As if it was my fault Nines was stupid enough to let himself be seen leaving the now dead Malkavian Primogen's residence. And if that wasn't enough, Mr. Dramatic sent me down here to bargain with the one clan who harbors a deathly aversion for Toreadors. _Oh but first, my slave, make sure this cafe gets a devastating review for not cooperating with my highborn, pompous ass. Then, bring me my fucking sarcophagus_ ," at that he made a perfect imitation of LaCroix's conceited nature, even causing Gary to grin slightly.  
Who would have thought a Toreador could get so worked up to lose their smooth attitude so easily?

"One should think the high prince of the Camarilla knows how to manipulate a simple restaurant critic to his will, don't you think so, ghost?" he added while tracing his eyes around more attentive now, stopping a bit left to Gary. Then in a gloomy mumble: "He definitely had no problem using Dominate on me to make me his little errand boy."

"As entertaining your little chitchat with yourself is," Gary interrupted in a smug tone, "I think you complain too much, boss."

A deep noise left the Toreador's throat, half snort, half chuckle and there was even a faint smile on his lips.  
"I just like the sound of my own voice," he used Gary's own words and managed to elicit an involuntary, raspy laugh out of the Nosferatu's mouth.

The Toreador's eyes flickered to him, dead on. His smile grew a bit larger, sharper, triumphant — and Gary took a moment too long to notice that somehow he was found out. Before he could make a move, the fledgling used his inhuman speed to bridge the gap between them and managed to grab his left arm. It was a lax grip, nothing he couldn't shake off with ease, still it was enough to break Obfuscate and made it impossible for him to become invisible again.

"Ha, found you, my lovely ghost."

Gary ignored the almost endearing sounding tone and adorable grin and made short process with the other one.

A pained " _Oww_ " fell from the other's lips as Gary pushed him up against the rough cave walls, one hand pinning him there and a sharp finger lingering against his pale, delicate throat like a silent threat.  
The cut right across that pretty face had already begun to heal itself and oh, how he was _aching_ to follow the faint outline with his claw, creating another, deeper one.

"How did you find out?" Gary hissed close to his face, where the playful smile had vanished completely. There was a defiant sparkle in the other's eyes as he reciprocated the glare, although he made no move to fight against his restraints, instead keeping himself composed — as much as a sharp finger pressing itself into his skin allowed him to.

"I should have known sooner you were using Obfuscate," the Toreador just said with a casual tone, as if they were talking about the weather. His Adam's apple bobbing up and down in a nervous rhythm under his fingernail betrayed his calm charade, though.

"It took a little time to… _sense_ your presence, so I needed to keep you entertained for a while. Luckily we Toreadors have a knack for talking all night through — if we're not occupied with other _earthly pleasures_."

Gary ignored the last comment, as he did the little — _cheeky bastard!_ — wink.

"Auspex, huh?" he realized with a low murmur.

The fledgling only nodded, tipping his head a bit to the side with a soft smile forming on his lips, making him look like pure innocence where inside he was no better than any other monster roaming the dark streets all night. _Goddamn Toreadors and their display of feigned humanity!_

"You know your Disciplines, _boss_." Reluctantly he let him loose, moving back a bit.

"I have to."

Gary watched with mere mockery how _pretty boy_ adjusted his collar and brushed off some dust from his jacket.

"Otherwise I'd be dead for real and poor Sebastian would have to find another lackey to do his dirty work."

"And wouldn't that be a great loss," Gary snorted sarcastically, causing the other one to rise one of those perfect eyebrows in an amused manner.

"Now that we showed each other our powers, you pressed me against a wall and I spilled all my dirty little secrets to you, I think we are acquainted enough to talk about the Ankaran sarcophagus, are we not?" The Toreador was back to his usual confident and cocky self, even adding a taunting "Or do you want to share a kiss first?"

Gary was close to just pin him back against the wall, this time slitting his throat with a swift movement of his finger, but as he said: There was a method to his madness and right now, pretty boy might prove to be useful after all.

And so their conversation went to the Tzimisce the fledgling — _Dorian_ , how he called himself; Gary couldn't care less — encountered and defeated on his way here, to the Kuei-jin and onto his missing spy, Barabus, last seen operating in Chinatown. If the fledgling wanted to know the whereabouts of that holy sarcophagus, he'd have to earn this information.

Apparently the other had already expected some sort of trade, because he seemed not surprised in the slightest by Gary's favor.  
Nor did he seem to understand the Kuei-jin are not one to mess around with, as he answered in a confident voice: "I'll bring your little spy safely back. Just make sure to keep your end of the bargain."

"Oh, don't worry. I might like the sound of my own voice, but in contrast to your kind my words aren't just hot air, boss."

"We'll see about that," the Toreador just gave back, mirroring the mocking tone of Gary. " _It's Chinatown_ , then."

" _Good luck_ , then."

_You'll need it, fledgling. Use your brain behind that pretty face of yours for once and you might even have a slight chance to survive that trip._

"Thanks." He made a move towards the door, then stopped for a second, giving him a lopsided grin over the shoulder. "And next time I'm visiting, don't be so shy and hide from me, _my lovely ghost_. There's really no need for that." A flirtatious wink was thrown his way. "You look quite catching in that suit of yours."

And with a last amused chuckle he disappeared behind the door.

_Just strike that last thought. Let the fucking Kuei-jin slice that loud-mouthed fledgling open!_

**Author's Note:**

> 1) There is a sequel planned to this Oneshot (even two tbh), but for now this has to do till I find time to write the rest.  
> 2) kudos and comments are always welcome, tell me if you liked it and the characterization (tried to get Gary's personality across as best as I could, hopefully I succeeded. My Toreador is maybe a bit ooc, cause he isn't such an arrogant "poseur" as he might be in the game's conversation with Gary.


End file.
